


Five Times Amy Tried to Impress Her Big Sister

by rivalmagician



Series: Five Times Fics for the Walking Dead [1]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivalmagician/pseuds/rivalmagician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's no fun being the baby sister, especially with the age difference between Amy and Andrea. Amy's always trying to get her attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Amy Tried to Impress Her Big Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I don't own anything.
> 
> Part of a series of Five Times Fics, because apparently I have to follow a formula. 
> 
> Originally posted to FanFiction.net

When Amy was four years old her favourite toy was her fairy princess Barbie. She had gotten it for her birthday and hadn’t put it down since. It had a pink sparkly dress, light up wand and detachable wings. For four year old Amy it was the best thing ever. 

Andrea was sixteen at the time and a particularly difficult sixteen year old at that. It was all loud music, dark clothes and shouting at her parents. She had no time for her little sister and her fairy princess Barbie. 

During one of Andrea’s more volatile fights with their father, Amy had retreated to the garden to look for some real fairies with her Barbie. She was so engrossed in searching the ground for evidence of tiny fairy tea parties when Andrea slammed the back door open and sat down heavily on the porch steps. She had her head in her hands and Amy could tell that she’d been crying. 

Now Amy didn’t know what her parents and Andrea were always arguing about, she mostly tried to stay out of the way, but she hated seeing other people upset. Other people being sad made Amy sad, and when Amy was sad there was one thing that always cheered her up. 

“Andy,” Amy said, approaching her sister cautiously.

“What?” Andrea demanded, looking up with her face streamed with angry tears. 

Amy held out her fairy princess Barbie, “You can hold her, if you like,” she offered.

Andrea wiped away her tears before taking the proffered Barbie, she looked unsure as to what to do with it before her fingers accidentally brushed the button on the back and the doll made a twinkly, magic noise. Andrea smiled at Amy.

“Thanks Amy,” she said, smoothing back the Barbie’s hair and straightening her dress.

“You have to give it back,” Amy clarified seriously. 

***

It was the worst day of Amy’s life when Andrea left for college. She cried all the way home after they had left Andrea at her new dorm room with a bunch of strange new people. Andrea didn’t seem too upset about it though, in fact she seemed quite anxious for them to leave so she could go talk to these new people. 

When Christmas break came around, Amy was more excited about the day Andrea was due to come home than Christmas Day. She had baked a cake in anticipation; well her Mom had baked the cake, she’d helped though. She’d also planned a whole list of things that they would do together over the Christmas break; decorate the tree, watch bad TV movies, eat Christmas cookies. Amy was buzzing with excitement. 

But when Andrea arrived she’d had her slice of cake, described in no great detail what she’d been doing over the semester and told them that she was going to a party with some old high school friends that night. 

Amy tried not to be too disappointed, after all Andrea was a grown up now. She didn’t have time for her little sister. This is what she told herself as she watched Andrea get ready to go out and because she didn’t make a fuss, Andrea was in a good enough mood to let her try on some of her sparkly lip gloss. 

And when Andrea was ready and heading for the door, Amy called after her, “You look really pretty Andy,” 

Andrea’s face lit up, “Thanks Amy,” she opened the front door but turned back towards Amy, “Hey, do you want to go to the movies tomorrow? I’ll buy you popcorn?” 

***

“Oh my god,” Andrea gasped.

They were cleaning out the garage together. A favour to their father who had begged off on the task by claiming he had a bad back but was actually sitting on the couch in front of the football. Amy had just bent over to pick up a box full of old Christmas decorations, her top had slide up her back a little and revealed…

“Is that a butterfly?” Andrea asked lifting up Amy’s top to get a proper look, “When did you get a tattoo? How did I not know?”

“It was last summer,” Amy admitted, yanking down her top, “And do not tell Dad,” she told her sternly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Andrea said, “I don’t want to start that argument, it’s just…did it hurt?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Amy shrugged, nonchalantly. Actually it hurt like hell; it took every inch of her courage not to burst into tears in the middle of the tattoo parlour. 

“Wow,” Andrea sounded impressed. Amy tried not to look too smug. 

***

Amy was staying at Andrea’s apartment for the week. Someone had found asbestos in her dorm room so she was crashing on her sister’s couch until it was sorted out. It wasn’t as if they saw each other much; Andrea spent most of her time at work and Amy had classes and spent a lot of time at the library pretending to study. So Amy was surprised when Andrea clattered in through the front door at six o’clock, kicking off her high heels and dropping her expensive briefcase. 

She ran a hand through her once neat hair and stated, “Tonight, we are going to get really drunk,” 

“I think I can agree with that,” Amy nodded. 

So, they got really ridiculously drunk. Dangerously, fall down, flash random men in the street drunk. It was the first time they had gone out together, Amy had only turned twenty-one three months ago so wasn’t incredibly experienced with drinking. She let Andrea take charge, ordering all the drinks and picking out the men that they would flirt with. 

“This is so much fun,” Andrea slurred, halfway through the night, giving Amy a messy hug that nearly knocked her off of her barstool. 

“I know,” Amy replied, resettling herself. 

“You can really hold your drink,” Andrea admitted, “I’m impressed, lets get more shots!” 

“Yay!” Amy agreed. 

Later on that night, when the bartender had called them a cab, Amy leant on Andrea’s shoulder in the back of the car, “This was great, we should hang out more,”

“Yeah, lets go on a road trip,” Andrea suggested, “It’ll be great, just the two of us,”

***

Amy had been the one who’d spotted the RV, they weren’t sure whether they should approach it or not. So far they’d seen that the only thing more dangerous than the walking dead were the people fleeing from them. 

So they stopped the car a couple of yards away and decided to approach by foot. Andrea had taken charge of the gun that their dad had given them before their trip and was currently holding it awkwardly at her side while Amy clutched at a baseball that was still clean from the sporting goods store they’d bought in from when the news had come through. 

Amy knocked on the door of the RV, feeling like a character in a fairy tale. They were two sisters lost in the woods, coming across a cottage and hoping that it wasn’t something scary behind the door. Nobody answered.

“Maybe they left?” Andrea asked.

“Maybe their dead,” Amy responded. 

What happened next happened very quickly. Somebody or something emerged from the trees, not five feet away from them. Andrea shrieked and tried to pull Amy away from it but Amy had already lunged forward with her baseball bat. Swinging it wildly and thankfully missing the man who’d emerged from the trees. But the ferociousness was there. 

Once everyone had calmed down and they’d been able to introduce themselves. He was Dale Horvath and was road-tripping, just like they were, in his RV and they were more the welcome to stay with him. He was glad of the company. 

Later that night Andrea still had that look on her face, the same look she’d had when she’d first seen Amy’s tattoo or when she’d manage to pound four tequila slammers in one night. She wasn’t just the little sister who needed taking care of; she could handle herself and anyone who came near them. They would watch each others backs.


End file.
